To start, a story:
When I woke up this morning, the first words out of my mouth were: “I feel like somebody threw me down a flight of stairs.” Seriously, everything hurt. Don’t know why, either. yoga yesterday wasn’t particularly intense; I’ve been working out the same as usual.
So anyway, I got up and did my gym thing, et cetera. Showered, got ready. And on my way back from breakfast…I fell down a flight of stairs.
Poetic? Yes. Painful? Um, YES.
I’m running a race on Sunday. I do not have time for the huge chunk now missing from the top of my foot, to grow back.
Besides that charming anecdote, though…
I feel like I’m in a recovery time crunch. I have five weeks to get this shit worked out. Then I’m maxed out at the counseling center. Seeing as I can’t afford anyone else, I’m pretty much gonna be on my own in the spring. Which is petrifying.
There are a lot of great things potentially happening in the spring…senior class recital, the opera, grad school interviews & decisions, my senior recital…I don’t want to lose it all to this shit.
So yes…it is, as I was told today, “go-time.” Not quite sure where we’re going or how to get there, or how I’m supposed to get back–hell, if I’ll even want to get back. Maybe the destination is much better than my current locale.